The Lizard and The Jester
by ConArtist 24-7
Summary: Voltaire, the argonian Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, is pretty sure he made a mistake on allowing Cicero to come with him on one of his quests, and some how the Fool of Hearts worms his way into his. Yes, its yaoi, no like, no read. Reviews are gold.
1. Chapter 1

Voltaire, the argonian listener for the Dark Brotherhood, sighed as he waited outside the Dawnstar sanctuary entry with Shadowmere, an ever faithful companion in his travels, for Cicero to make his appearance.

"'Cicero will be out in a minute'," The Listener mumbled angrily, mocking his underling, sharp teeth snapping. "Bloody fool." Shadowmere snorted at his current master's words, as if agreeing with the light scaled argonian, who wore red war paint all over his features, matching the feather like features between curled horns on his head. "It has already been an hour! I swear, I should have just slaughtered him."

"Oh, Listener, that hurts Cicero's feelings, it does." Voltaire nearly jumped a foot of the ground, something he never did, when the jester seemed to materialize out of nowhere. The odd tone of speech the imperial used did set his nerves on high alert, no matter what. "Sithis, do you really have to do that?" The argonian hissed, tail snapping angrily. "Do what?" the Keeper tilted his head to the side 'innocently', making the other male growl in frustration. "Gah! Never mind. You know where to meet me, right?"

"Yes, yes! The tavern in Solitude! …Though I do not see why The Listener is lowering his self to doing," The imperial pulled a face. "a Thieves' guild job."

"To keep relations good. Besides, it is also for the Bla-"

"Oh, who cares? Let's just kill someone!" With a sigh, Voltaire just hung his head and pointed east. "Just…just go."

"Hehehehe!" and off went the insane 'Fool of hearts'. Once the other male was out of sight, and for the time being, out of mind, the argonian Listener summoned another companion worth travelling with. "Ah, Listener, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Hello, Lucien, I just figured I would have myself an intelligent conversation for once." The specter of the Speaker chuckled. "Of course, I would be delighted."

-x-

After a few days of travelling, killing the occasional bear, bandit, troll, and so on, Voltaire made it to Solitude. "It was nice to speak with you, my Listener."

"Same with you, LaChance. Do not get too comfortable in The Void; I might need you again soon." And with that, the ghost faded into nothing.

After putting Shadowmere in the stables, much to the ancient creature's disapproval, the argonian changed out of his armor and into bland funeral wear, so not to be recognized as easily by the guards.

Voltaire hunched over as he scurried into the Winking Skeever. Things did not go exactly as planned as he entered Solitude. One of the guards seemed to have recognized him; possibly from that little 'stunt' Astrid made him pull a few months back. Thankfully, the argonian was gifted with a silver tongue, and was able to convince the nord otherwise. Though, as soon as he entered the tavern, he instantly wished he had been caught and tossed into jail. The imperial jester obviously had not been lying low, like Voltaire had been praying he would. No, he seemed to have pissed off everyone within the general area. "...and he says to the man, 'That's not a horker! That's my wife!' Hahahahaha...Ah...I love that one!"

"Boo!"

"Shut up imperial!"

"Get out of here!"

Now, the Listener was very aware that the insane jester was capable of taking care of himself, but as he watched a few angry nords advance on the fool, the argonian instantly reached out, yanking one of the would be attackers back by his ponytail. "What the Hell!" The nord thrashed, but Voltaire gave a harsh tug to the pale strands, effectively halting the struggles. "Now," the argonian started, blank blue orbs glaring harshly at the surrounding men. "I hope you gentlemen still have no intention of harming my friend here, or your friend," the nord made a very unmanly squeal when the angry 'lizard' yanked harder than before. "Will get a new, painful, haircut." Swears and angry grumbling met his ears, but the nords moved away from the jester. With a growl and swear of his own, the pale scaled argonain shoved the nord at his friends, then grabbed Cicero by the front of his tunic, and dragged him to the bar counter. "Two rooms, please." The man stared at the fuming argonian, then at the ever smiling imperial, and finally the argonian's tail, which was swishing around threateningly. "A-ah, we o-only have one room-"

"That's fine. Fifteen gold? Here," Voltaire shoved triple of that into the other man's hand. "Three nights worth." And with that, the Black Marsh native dragged the cackling jester up the stairs. "Shut up!" the sound of a fist colliding with the top of Cicero's head sounded, then it was quiet, though it sounded like Voltaire was now literally dragging the Keeper.


	2. Chapter 2

Voltaire swore to himself, if he lived through the night, and did not strangle Cicero, he would give five hundred pieces of gold to the next beggar he saw, one precious piece at a time.

It was not long after Voltaire knocked the jester out that he became conscious again. "Dear, sweet, Listener! Why are you so cruel to poor, humble Cicero?" The Fool of Hearts asked, moving so he hung upside-down on the bed, a pout on his face. "I don't know Cicero, maybe because you make my life hell?" Voltaire shrugged nonchalantly, glancing through a book he 'found' while he sat on the floor, as far away from the other male he could get. His eye twitched when he heard the full grown man whine so high pitched it hurt his eardrums. "Keep that up and I'll hit you again." The pale scaled lizard snarled through gritted teeth. And for one blissful, beautiful moment, everything remained silent.

"Why is Listener on the floor?" Moment over.

-x-

After handing a poor woman the five hundredth piece of gold, Voltaire sighed. He had gotten smart this morning and decided that this quest was better to do alone, sending Cicero back to Mother. With a sore neck and back, from sleeping on hard, cold wooden floorboards, the argonian waved off the woman who was blessing him in the name of Mara. 'Sithis, I should have dumped him on the floor. Oh, I need that bed!' Voltaire groaned mentally, almost wishing the day would end, even though it just began.

"Oi, lizard!"

'Oh, that can't be good.' Turning to look over his shoulder, the argonian Listener spotted the nords, five of them, from last night. Out of instinct, he reached for the long handle of his dwarven made hammer, only to remember that he left it in his room. "Damn…" he hissed, plastering on a fake smile. "Oh, hello there. Is there something you nee-"

"Shut up. Where's imperial?" the one Voltaire had restrained, via his hair, said in a tone that spoke of an impending fight. "Gone, long gone, so better luck next time." The Listener turned, having every intention of avoiding a fight without the aid of his favorite weapon, but was greeted with the sight of three more angry nords. "Then we'll settle for just you." It seemed to the argonian Listener that the guards were in on whatever the nords had in store, for there were none in sight. "Hrmph, I hate when people 'settle' for me."

-x-

Cicero was a good servant, do not ever doubt that, but he had not been keen on returning to the Dawnstar Sanctuary so soon, even though he wished to be by his beloved Dark Mother's side. No, he was far too interested in his Listener. He wanted to know why Mother picked a member of The Dark Brotherhood so new, and not him, who had been with her for years. 'Cicero would never hurt Listener. No, that would not be good. Cicero only wishes to know what makes him different, so noble Cicero can please Mother. Become no Listener, haha!'

The jester, dressed in common clothing, much to his distaste, peeked around a corner. He could see the unarmed argonain the same nords that found no humor to his jokes last night. 'Oh dear, Cicero better help Listener,' he thought, reaching for the dagger under his tunic. 'Or Mother will not be pleased.'

The fool gasped slightly when his superior's hand shot forward, producing a stream of fire, like a dragon would produce. A roar of outrage came from the burning nord's companions, which did nothing to cover up the horrendous scream he was emitting. He had not known the Listener knew magic.

-x-

Voltaire quickly dashed forward, grabbing the flimsy iron sword that was attached to the burning man, ignoring the flames that licked at his pale scales, scorching them black. He then slashed wildly at another nord, who had drawn his own weapon and was blocking and slashing back, while the six other tried to put out the fire on their friend. Once they figured out it was useless, and their companion was no longer thrashing against the magically conjured flames, they turned to Voltaire ready to attack and join the one already at it. Seeing he was out numbered, and without his normal arsenal, the Listener deemed a retreat necessary. Kicking the nord in the gut, then turning to the group now almost on him, Voltaire took a deep breath. "Fus," he could feel the power swell up in his throat as he inhaled. Then, he let all the air out with tremendous force. "Ro Dah!" Forcing all his attackers back, he dashed, tail wagging like a dogs. Using the Shouts always made him giddy afterwards, powerful, even invincible.

The argonian made a beeline to The Winking Skeever, to quickly retrieve his things and then leave Solitude for a day or so. He would continue his quest after things settled down. As he dived into the tavern door, he was unaware of a pair of wide eyes watching him.


	3. Chapter 3

His escape out of the city had been 'fun'. After grabbing all his things, and 'borrowing' some sweetrolls, the argonian had bumped into some guards on the way out of the tavern, effectively trapping him. Or so they had thought. Voltaire, with as much manners as a troll, hopped onto the bar's counter, then over the captain's head, knocking off his helmet with his tail just for spite. Retrieving Shadowmere was just as exciting, with dodging arrows that were aimed directly for his head and an angry stable master chasing him with a shovel,

"Oh~ But what would life be without the occasional threats to one's life, hmm?" Voltaire hummed, patting the side of the demonic horse's neck. Shadowmere whinnied in response, bobbing his head up and down in agreement. "Well, it should be smooth sailing for now at least." Famous last words.

-x-

"Someone, somewhere, really has to hate me…" spat the Listener, diving behind a tree just in time to avoid a blast of searing hot flames. He watched as the bronze scaled dragon circled around the area, hearing the beast laugh heartily at him. "Keep yucking it up! I'm still going to kick you leathery ass-!" The argonian yelped as flames managed to brush his tail, jumping out from behind the tree and diving for the nearby river to put out the fire.

The ground shook as the reptile landed, lashing its tail around and knocking down a few tall pine trees. Shadowmere reared up and tried kicking the dragon, but backed away when it snarled and snapped at it. Voltaire groaned loudly as he dragged himself onto the shore banks, shaking the water from his armor and scales like a dog. Grabbing his hammer, that he dropped while diving into the cold waters, the Dragonborn ran forward and slammed the heavy weapon down on a bronze wing. The dragon roared in anger and whipped its head around, opening its mouth. '-I am going to enjoy picking your flesh out of my fangs with your bones!-' The dragon spoke in its native tongue, voice a deep and booming baritone, without actually speaking. Voltaire tried to scuttle back, but the beast would not have that. It clamped its mouth down on the Listener's arm, earning it a howl of pain from the male, before tossing him a few yards. Voltaire hit a tree, hard. His vision was dotted with black spots for a moment, but he could make out a shape of someone darting out of the trees and slashing at the dragon. It only took him a moment to regain all of his vision and to see who that person was. "Cicero!" he shouted, utterly terrified for the red haired imperial that was slashing at the dragon with a small dagger.

-x-

The Fool of Hearts had to admit, his superior was…different when not in the presence anyone. His usual tall, tense frame slacked and looked loose and comfortable. The scowl was gone and replaced with a carefree, ever so cocky, grin, which suited him much more. Cicero almost found it 'cute'. Though, it was hard to really get a good look at the Listener when he was crawling up rock like a miniature, wingless dragon, diving off cliffs into deep water, or moving faster than the wind on Shadowmere. It seemed to the Keeper that the argonian was always in motion, never halting or slowing.

Adjusting his jester hat, the imperial peeked around a large pine tree to get a look at the other male. Voltaire had finally come to rest, plopping down onto a log and pulling out a stolen sweetroll and munching happily on it. 'Oh…Need a sweetroll…or a carrot.' The fool thought, stomach rumbling loudly. Voltaire would probably have been able to hear it if it was not for the eardrum shattering roar from the sky. Cicero's head shot up and he gapped openly at the bronze dragon that dived from above the clouds, swooping low and releasing a breath of fire. "…That cannot be good…"

Voltaire did well for the first few minutes, working quickly with a bow and arrow to get the beast to land, even though he was horrible with a bow and could not hit the broad side of a mammoth on a good day. But, once the dragon landed, the Dragonborn Listener luck slowly ran out. Taking out one of the bronze reptile's wings infuriated the creature to no end, and it then decided not to play around anymore. Cicero growled when he saw Voltaire hit a tree with a loud thud, and decided he could hide no longer. 'No Listener means Mother will be unheard again! Cicero will no fail Mother. Never!' Taking out his dagger, the imperial darted out of the trees, taking the dragon of guard. He slashed wildly at the dragon's head and neck, cutting it across one of its rage filled eyes. The dragon roared in pain and the utmost fury. It shouted, without moving its mouth, in a language the fool did not know, before whacking him full force across his stomach with its tail. The hit made Cicero exhale all the air in his lungs painfully and roll across the grassy forest floor faster than a barrel down a hill. Cicero thought for sure he was finished when the dragon turned its head to him, opening wide jaws and forming a ball of fire between razor sharp teeth. "Wuld Nah Kest!" Voltaire appeared on top of the beast's head hammer raised. With enough force to shatter stone, the Dragonborn brought down his weapon, effectively shattering the flying reptile's skull. The bronze dragon collapsed to the ground, mouth still wide open in a would be attack.

-x-

Voltaire panted heavily as he crawled quickly off the dragon before it burst into flames. Dropping his hammer, the argonian quickly made his way over to his underling, kneeling next to him. "For a Listener," the red head said quietly. "You sure do a lot of shouting."

The last thing the Fool of hearts saw before he blacked out from the pain was strings and ribbons of energy entering Voltaire's body, and the grin that was on his pale scaled face.


End file.
